


A Slight Bias

by Dunuelos



Series: Harry Potter, Lone Traveler [97]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Riftwar Saga - Raymond E. Feist
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 09:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20289058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunuelos/pseuds/Dunuelos
Summary: The Traveler encounters the most powerful magician in Medkemian history. They have a discussion.





	A Slight Bias

**Author's Note:**

> "The Lone Traveler: Originally a Mortal Human Wizard and dimensional traveler, this being ascended to Godhood as a reward for services to the Creator. Very often arrives and leaves using a spectacular aura of blue light. His Divine name is Marek Ilumian, Fury of the Light, a Minor God of Knowledge and Travel and Patron God of Free Will. His appearance normally associated with preventing apocalypses or helping to ensure Free Will can be exercised by mortals. All assistance should be rendered when he appears. Does have a mischievous streak, especially when accompanied by a Goddess from another dimension who appears as a small innocent girl."
> 
> Rupert Giles Watcher's Diaries, 27 September, 2000

The magician/sorcerer had no true interest in being identified by anyone who might be interested in the fact that he was at this particular inn.

Over the last 100 years, he had done many things, worked with many groups, guided many people. His first wife had died, as did his children from that first marriage. His current wife was away on one of her "personal missions" which she didn't speak of unless it was needed.

He had to wait for a particular agent to arrive. Originally it had been his son who was supposed to meet the agent, but he had sent his eldest living son on a mission. The matter of the Tolnoy had become more urgent and a message had come through from the Assembly as regards the device and a need for consultation.

His youngest son was on a mission in Kesh and his (now) three new adopted grandchildren were in Roldem with Kasper, a former enemy turned agent.

His daughter-in-law was back on Sorcerer's Isle. For someone without magic herself, she somehow fit in. His students there were doing as required.

His friend and fellow member of the Conclave was down in Novindus with the man that somehow seemed to have a piece of the Nameless one. Nakor was watching the Tolnoys and Bek, both at once.

He found himself in the almost unheard of position of not needing to do anything right at that moment.

And so he did something that he almost never did: He walked up to the bar and casually ordered ale just to sit and enjoy it.

After handing over the copper coins, he accepted the jack and looked around. Seeing an empty table which could afford him a view of the door and the room, he went to it and sat down.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he took a long draught and just enjoyed it. It reminded him of his first stolen ale with his long-time friend Tomas Megarson, who now was the Elven Queen's Consort in Elvandar. He had a private chuckle at the memory, a century old at this point.

Unfortunately, as he sat and thought and drank, his mind turned to brooding – something he rarely indulged in but he had the propensity for it since he was a child.

His life, for so many years, had not truly been his own. He felt himself a pawn in the Game of Gods, first made such by his antecedent as the Black Sorcerer, Macros the Black.

It was an hour still before his agent would arrive and he was halfway through his ale when a man walked in.

This man was dressed as no one he had ever seen before: An open jacket made from a hide of some type, dyed black, slightly worn around the edges. Below this he wore a simple shirt. Strangely, the shirt did not look like anything more than a work shirt made of cotton rather than linen. What was strange about it was that it was white – true white. Such a color on a garment was almost never seen outside of court dress, but this was not court dress. His legs were covered in trousers, a faded blue of a material he had not really seen before. On his feet were boots that appeared to be made of leather – but they were far more sturdy than boots that a rider would wear. Once again, if Pug were to guess, they looked like they were supposed to be working boots – but no laborer had ever had boots that appeared to be made so well

The man looked around, his eyes moving about the room. The man then walked to the man behind the bar and ordered a drink. When the drink came, the man put what appeared to be a silver coin on the bar. When the barkeep spoke of making change, the man waved off the necessity.

Pug glanced around. He had long experience with places such as this. A man dressed in clothes of such good repair, paying with silver and tipping the barkeep the difference with such little thought would normally mark him to anyone present as a man who might be watched. Those of the more unsavory type would most assuredly keep an eye out for the chance to relieve the man of whatever coin he had, and possibly his life.

Strangely, no one gave the man a second glance. Pug's eye narrowed. This man was strange. And for Pug, strange meant a possible threat. Anything so out of the ordinary often meant he or his were in danger.

But the man didn't act aggressively. As he took a drink, the man looked around and saw Pug's interest. The man smiled and raised his ale before taking another draw from it. And then without so much as a hint of worry, the man casually walked over to the table Pug was seated at and stopped. "You mind?" the man asked, motioning toward the chair across from him.

Pug said nothing but motioned that he would allow it.

"Thank you." The man sat down and then set his ale down. With a smile he said, "You look like a man who is … perplexed."

Pug considered that and then replied, "Your dress and manner is quite odd for such a place as this."

The man chuckled. "True." He waved toward the rest of the room. "This looks like an establishment from the history of my world. A few hundred years ago, it wouldn't have been an uncommon sight." The man shrugged. "But an inn is an inn and ale is ale." He took another draught. "It's nice to occasionally enjoy a quiet mug," the man said with a small smile.

Pug sat back. "So you are from another world."

Still smiling, the man nodded. "As you were close to guessing when you saw me." After a pause, the man then said. "You look like a man who is familiar with such things."

Pug gave a small shrug. "I've had some experience on occasion."

The man nodded. "I had guessed." He looked at Pug and said, "You just enjoying a quiet one as well, or are you waiting for someone?"

Pug was hesitant to answer. He glanced around to see if anyone was listening. The man laughed. "Don't worry. I've put out spell. I can feel your magic and so I can guess that you are familiar with the idea of it. It's called a 'Notice-me-not' spell – quite handy when you don't care to advertise your presence."

Pug answered. "I see. Not an ability I commonly see used so casually."

The man chuckled again. "I told you – it's a spell. On my world, our Wizards and Witches spend years learning hundreds of them. Anyone with magic can do such a thing, though most would require a wand – a focus if you will. I'm unusual in that I don't really need one for such a simple thing. But a simple spell it remains."

Pug nodded. "I see. It sounds interesting; a valuable tool in the right place."

The man smiled in delight. "Exactly right! My god, it's nice to meet someone on a world such as this who recognizes that magic can be just a tool as much as anything else. Most people is societies such as this view it as the work of dark forces." The man waggled his fingers. "Oooooh – magic. Scaaaaary."

Pug actually chuckled at that. "You must admit that sometimes it is such."

The man shrugged. "It's not the _magic_ – it's the _purpose_ of it. The user's _intent_ is what makes it evil or not. Yes, magic is a fundamental force – you can find it in almost anything, regardless of what most people think. All of creation is, after all, a product of energy exuded by the Creator. And being such, it can't help being, in at least the smallest part, magical. It isn't all that mysterious a thing." The man shrugged and then took another draught from his mug. Pug matched him.

"What about dark forces? Such things do exist. I have, unfortunately, far too much experience in dealing with such things when they threaten to overrun everything." Pug was quite definite about that.

The man nodded and sighed. "Yes. There is good and there is evil. And all of it, in a way, is the product of the Creator. All of this," he motioned around them, "was originally the Creator making things to help to figure things out. To learn what he or she was by reflecting himself/herself into the universes. And, unfortunately for those of us who live in the universes, that includes many things that a sentient mind might count as evil. There's always both sides – it's the nature of things."

Pug sighed. "I've talked about this with my friend." Pug thought of Nakor. "He says much the same thing. But it gets tiring being a pawn in the games of gods. Painful at times as well."

The man nodded, looking thoughtful. "That's true. Just because it's _necessary_ doesn't make it _pleasant_."

"Necessary?" Pug asked.

"Yes. Of course it's necessary. Can good really be understood as such if there wasn't evil to compare it against? Can someone truly understand one without the other one being there as well?" the man asked earnestly

Pug sighed. "Such ideas make my head hurt at times." He looked at the man more directly and said, "Necessary in the grand scheme it might be, but far too many suffer because of it. The idea that evil cannot be, in the end, destroyed because it is _necessary_," Pug said that word with sarcasm, "does not make a happy thought." Pug took a draught of ale. "In fact, I find it most depressing." And Pug did feel depressed in that moment.

The man nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I understand that." Suddenly, the man smiled. "Well, considering that you're feeling depressed about it all, can I try to leave you with a thought that _might_ produce some comfort, at least in a small amount?"

Pug was unconvinced that it would be effective, but answered anyway, "Certainly. Go ahead and try, I welcome it."

The man nodded. "Okay. So we're in agreement that in all things there seems to be a balance. Good and evil, right and wrong, matter and antimatter. For everything in creation, there is something, somewhere, which is its opposite. Otherwise, nothing could truly be understood or have a true form. Can you accept that as a premise?"

Pug considered that for a long moment. "Theoretically … I'll accept it."

"Then I have a question for you. You ready?"

"Go ahead."

The man looked at Pug and asked, "If there is an equal and opposite to everything, then how can the worlds and universes and dimensions all exist? When the smallest piece of matter meets the smallest piece of antimatter, their contrary natures cause both to be destroyed – annihilated even. How can all of this exist if there is always a balance?"

Pug paused when he considered this. He had never heard of this idea conceived of anywhere. Even Nakor, who often had the most exotic thoughts of anyone, man or god, that he had ever met, had never voices such a thing. "Truly? I don't know."

The man nodded. "Then take comfort in this: In all of creation, there is the very slightest bias toward creation. Take the smallest block of matter. On my world it's called an atom. A gold atom is made a certain way, with positive and negative and neutral particles all combined together in a lattice which, created with certain rules that were laid out by the Creator, form gold. All matter, _all matter_, is made up of these same smaller particles. What makes it gold instead of, say, helium gas, is how many of each type of particle being part of the whole. Can you understand the basic concept of that?"

Pug tried to understand what was said. The idea was of profound detail. He had seen hints in books that he had read long ago, but it have never been laid out so cleanly. "I can see it – somewhat. So water, for example, would be a different lattice of the same."

The man chuckled ruefully. "Sorry. Water is actually two gases combined together in a larger matrix. Once again this follows certain rules, but elements can combine together to form new substances. You've seen rust on iron, I assume."

Pug nodded.

"That's one substance from the air, my people call it oxygen, combining in a matrix with iron. That makes iron oxide – rust. Hydrogen, two parts of it to one of oxygen, combine to make dihydrogen monoxide – water. Oxygen in one part combines in your body with two parts of something called carbon, which you get from food, to make carbon dioxide. It looks like air, feels like air, but you tried to breathe only this you die; the reason people can't survived sealed in something with no air holes. 'Bad air' if you will."

Pug was startled at that idea. "I think I can see that."

"Right. Well, anyway: There are particles of matter and there are particles of antimatter that are identical in structure but opposite in nature. Can you accept that?"

Pug nodded. "More easily than some other things."

"Good. Now with all of that in mind, consider this: It can't be exactly in balance. Because everything exists, there has to be something which accounts for things not just destroying each other against the opposites. And there _is_ something: In all of creation there is a slight bias. For every one particle of matter created, theoretically there is was particle of antimatter also created. And that's true – almost. Are you familiar with large scale numbers? A thousand thousand? A thousand thousand thousand"

"Million. Billion."

"Right. For every billion pieces of matter, theoretically there should have been a billion of antimatter. It had to be that way if you accept the idea of balance. But in truth, for every 2 billion particles of antimatter created in the instant of creation, 2 billion _and one_ particles of matter were created. It is such a small bias. But that tiny, infinitesimally small bias in creation accounts for everything that is seen, felt, experienced, in all the worlds and universes. The Creator, by this mechanism, demonstrates that he or she or however the Creator defines itself, has a bias toward _creation _– not destruction. It can only be certain that this is true. And that being true– you can always find hope in that small certainty."

Pug considered that for a long moment. He had never even conceived of such an idea. Such esoteric thoughts often were the province of lifetimes of work built up in a religious order or some other institution, like the Assembly on Kelewan.

And in that moment Pug did feel some comfort in that new and radical idea. There was always more creation than destruction – regardless of efforts to the contrary.

Pug looked at the stranger and said, "Thank you. I find that idea a most hopeful one if it's true."

The man chuckled. "I _guarantee_ it is true. On this, you can have faith. Things will all work out in the end."

And then Pug – who was, after all, very sensitive to certain things – suddenly felt the presence of divine energies, coming from the man – no the being – sitting across from him.

The being winked at him and then suddenly his form compressed down into a small ball of blue light which then disappeared, hopeful sounding music wafting through the now empty space where he had been.

Pug looked around and was somewhat surprised that no one even seemed to have noticed that divine occurrence happening right among them.

Pug, suddenly much more at ease, sat back and decided to enjoy the ale and the time spent waiting in this place.

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a world that sees little fanfiction. I think that the author's agents work hard to get such things removed. Or no one feels they can do a better job than the original author.
> 
> The author is Feist and the Riftwar series and later books. I do recommend them – there are 20 or so and the earlier books in most series are discounted in price right now, at least the electronic versions. I am in the midst of re-reading those I've read and reading those I haven't. I think I'm through the first 14 so far – working on 15 now. (I've read 5 this week – if I didn't have to work I'd have read more.)
> 
> Still. One of my favorite characters is Pug of Crydee, also known as Milamber of the Assembly. Short, dark-haired, unassuming physically, but resplendent in power for those who have an eye for such things. He is a figure of awe who truly doesn't enjoy such things outside of using it as necessary to do what he thinks the gods require of him.
> 
> If you want the source of what most people view as the template for "Superpowered Harry" or "Godlike Harry" – it goes back to Pug.
> 
> And with that, I think I am done with the Traveler character, save for an occasional bunny.
> 
> As one reviewer put it, I'm just doing the same thing over and over. There is some truth in that. I think it's time to move back to true Harry Potter fanfiction and other fandoms I am a fan of.
> 
> That being said: I might trot the Traveler out – from time to time.


End file.
